THE JOURNEY OF THE MAGI
Aided by the meekness
Of that moonless light
Our love to your kindred we bore
The burning torches we sought
As we made our descent
They had our hearts
Already pierced
Hence less we cared
About the totem poles
Spitting fire
The journey was to the east
From whence flew melody- makers
Our love to your kindred we bore
In the tournament of totem-bearers
In the land of the dwindling east
East, and the lethal-leaden mist
Above
A wilted star
Below; a killing field
Where fire cut down limbs
Like sprightly trees
And in bounty parts
Issued the pink springs
Our love to your kindred we bore
To nourish the embers of hope
In many gaping mouths
Indeed a last supper
For those
Staring the vaults
In the face
But we must depart
Lest the death birds come calling
So we can come back
To prevent a state of nature
So pristine.
—————
NIGHT
Night
I find your blanket
Comforting, night
Sheltering and blank
Underneath your covers
The lissom blade of light
Shall not take my soul
In my prison
Barricaded by the louvres
Work out my agitation in paces
Wearied and worried: I am at peace
As grave as life
Remain my headstone, sweet night
In your somnolence
May I not be discovered
—————
Poems © Ighalo Eghosa Joel
Image: Pixabay.com remixed